The exception as the rule

What makes Unmukt Chand’s case for promotion into in spite of poor attendance a ‘rarest of rare’ case, deserving of extraordinary consideration? Is it because he led the Under-19 team that won the World Cup? What if the Under 19 cricket team had lost in the finals, or worse even earlier? Would the case have become a little less rare? What if the player with the attendance problem was not one of the star performers in the tournament? Would we still have agitated with such fervour for an ‘ordinary’ team member, one of the ‘boys’ that all post-match speeches credit with being the real reason for any victory? What if the game involved was Kho Kho or volleyball or if the college involved had not been St Stephens? Would the whole outrage against the move to deny Unmukt Chand a promotion still have been as pronounced?

The ‘rarest of rare’ tag is a poor attempt at a fig leaf; for it is derived not from the merits of the case but from the nature of the final outcome. It is a general reward masquerading as a specific concession, and it is rooted in a culture of exceptionalism, rather than fairness. The concession made is not rooted in any principle nor any concrete and objective benchmark; it is an indulgent gesture, a throwback to the feudal notion of ‘inaam’, that directs a feeling of momentary euphoria towards a specific, highly appealing individual. Which is why it is presented as an exception; even in the headiness of this moment it is recognised that such actions must stay selective and discretionary rather than become hardened into a right accessible by all.

The framing of the issue as a battle between sport and education is misleading, for the rule that is in place today is not being challenged with any seriousness. The translation of sporting achievement into academic performance cannot be automatic and unbounded, and the current system recognises this. Ironically, it is not even as if Chand really needs this degree; it is clear that his immediate future is not dependent on any academic qualification. Nothing is going to stop him from being part of the next IPL, nor is his visage likely to be absent from advertisements for leading brands, eager to connect with new youth icons. In any case, nothing prevents him from pursuing a degree privately, through a correspondence course, as suggested by Javagal Srinath. If at all there are people who could do with some leniency on this front, it is those sportspeople that toil at sports that are less glamorous or lucrative, where the delay in getting a degree might seriously hamper future prospects in life. Chand doesn’t need our support, which is precisely why he gets it. We want to guarantee him his privileges rather than safeguard his essential rights.

At a deeper level, this move has nothing to do with our love for sports or sportspeople and everything to do with our obsession with victors and the belief that those anointed as special, must be allowed exemption from rules that apply to the ordinary. Once the ordinary become special, as a primary signifier of achievement, most rules must fall away. Performance in one arena needs to be rewarded in a blanket form in all other arenas- it must take the form of a jackpot-at-large. And mere performance is not enough to merit consideration as being exemption-worthy; it has to make us, as viewers and spectators feel good about ourselves. This is why we shower disproportionate rewards on some winners and show scant regard for others, as indeed for the process and system that is needed to produce such results. For years Mary Kom toiled in obscurity winning World Championships in an unheralded sport in a part of the country made invisible by indifference, till she was discovered by a public eager to win something at the Olympics, and she is now retrospectively India’s heartthrob. Now that she doesn’t need our support, she will be inundated by it. Any victory deemed significant from the perspective of national ego produces a flurry of competitive rewards, with every interested party outbidding the other in announcing incentives and rewards for the winners.

It would seem that part of the function of any rule is to provide a basis for discrimination; almost the first concern that arises around any rule is in outlining who gets to break it. Who is exempt from frisking at airports, who does not have to pay the lousy twenty bucks that everyone else needs to at toll gates on new highways, who gets to be driven up all the way to the aircraft, who gets to break traffic rules and keep the rest of us waiting, the list is a comprehensive one. What is most interesting is that media, far from resenting this and agitating against it, is often the biggest cheerleader for this institutionalised inequality, as is the case here.

The tendency to get caught up in the moment, to throw tantrums when things go south and celebrate deliriously when victory is tasted, produces a culture that cherry picks outcomes without showing any interest in processes. It celebrates the eventual victors retrospectively, rather than work at creating winners from the ground up. In celebrating occasional positive outcomes with such inegalitarian excess, we are ensuring that such outcomes remain occasional. At a larger level, the principle behind corruption and cronyism is not that different from the one being invoked here. The issue is not really about Unmukt Chnad, for it is easy not to grudge a young man a lucky break, but about a system that sacrifices principles for the sake of momentary gratification with such strident ease.

DISCLAIMER : Views expressed above are the author's own.

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Santosh Desai is a leading ad professional. He says he has strayed into writing entirely by accident, and for this he is "grateful". "City City Bang Bang" looks at contemporary Indian society from an everyday vantage point. It covers issues big and small, tends where possible to avoid judgmental positions, and tries instead to understand what makes things the way they are. The desire to look at things with innocent doubt helps in the emergence of fresh perspectives and hopefully, of clarity of a new kind.

Santosh Desai is a leading ad professional. He says he has strayed into writing entirely by accident, and for this he is "grateful". "City City Bang Bang" l. . .